3 Months Later

The girl had been getting home later and later since she had started night school. Tonight, however, she was finally on time; she had finally gotten caught-up in Maths after staying after for help every night for a week. It was past midnight now, she having gone for a quick after-class drink with a few of her classmates, and everyone was asleep. She turned on the radio with the volume set low on her favorite station that had DJs at all hours of the night.

"…And that was the Traveling Ghost Tour Band, with their new song Dying Day. Really lovely," praised the DJ, and the girl cursed that she had missed it. She'd been thinking about the singer and the twins quite a lot since meeting them in London, and found herself sore for the older woman's warm companionship. "And now, we've got a real treat right from Dublin for our late-night listeners. A song by London's newest rising star, an allegedly one-man band called Fitzcarraldo. The CD was hand-delivered to us by young Fitz himself, and he asked if, since we're the first station in all of the UK to play it, we would read a message with it."

The girl quirked her eyebrows thoughtfully as she pulled the kettle off of the stove before it could whistle. She could faintly hear Miklos snoring, and Ivanka was making a disgruntled sound at all the noise. She turned the radio up just a little bit as she stirred her tea at the table.

"…And here it is! From handsome young Fitzcarraldo himself! 'Hello Ireland! As this is the first song sent out on the airwaves that wasn't sent by a smelly busker on the corner of the street, I would like to take a moment to dedicate this momentous first song to a girl back home in Dublin. Now, you're probably spittin' mad at me right now, so hopefully this'll make it up to ya, love, because this song isn't mine. It's yours, my song-writing partner, my back-up vocalist, the birdlike muse flitting onto my shoulder, and my very dear friend. Listen close, love. From, Fitzcarraldo."

The girl looked up from her mug sharply, her hands instantly beginning to shake. Surely not…? He hadn't called her! But then, surely enough, the beginning strains of her piano and his guitar started up and tears sprang to her eyes.


"Miklos! Mami!" she shouted, and even though it was the middle of the night she turned up the radio all the way, laughing.

If you ever want somethin'

Ivanka was, oddly, the first to come out, rubbing her eyes but running to wrap her arms around the girl's legs.

You just call, call, and I'll come running to fight

Mik and her mother came next as she picked up Ivanka and reached for the phone at the same time, nearly dropping it twice. Her mother clapped and smiled when she recognized the busker's voice, yelling about her Handsome.

And I'll be at your door

The girl turned to her still-half-sleeping husband and told him that she was the one playing the piano there. He smiled widely and squeezed her shoulder in a supportive gesture as she dialed the phone.

When there's nothing worth running for

"Are you listening?" asked the busker the moment the phone clicked to life.

When your mind's made up

"You lying bastard!" she half-laughed half-cried into the phone. "You never called me!"

He laughed. "I wanted it to be a surprise! Are you mad?"

When your mind's made up

There's no point trying to change it

"No," the girl insisted, pressing a hand to her grinning lips. There, looking out the window to the southeast, with the busker in her ear and Ivanka over her heart and her mother and husband at her shoulders, she finally felt the glimmer of hope she had been waiting for all her life.

You see
You're just like everyone
When the shit falls all you want to do is run away
And hide all by yourself
When you're far from me there's nothing else

When your mind's made up
When your mind's made up
There's no point trying to fight it
When your mind's
Your mind's
Made up
There's no point trying to change it

If you ever want something
And you call, call

"I'll call when it's time to record an album, okay?"


"Cool. I love you."

The girl looked at her husband, who had taken Ivanka and started dancing around the flat with her in his arms. "You too."

Then I'll come running.